Shattering glass
by stainedheart
Summary: "Championships change people more than anything else in our world and there's nothing you can do about it. Punk is already too far too gone in this road to come back" Punk/AJ


N/A: So, this all started with Punk's heel turn. I've seen plenty of Punk/AJ fics with AJ being the crazy and Punk trying to play cool, but right now I'm more into Punk's craziness over his title. This pairing really grew on me lately and I wanted to write something like this for them. Hope everybody can enjoy the fic. Reviews are great (:

* * *

**Shattering glass**

In the beginning everything was fine. AJ couldn't remember being like this with a guy since… Well, forever. Her heart beating faster at a merely mention of his name, her legs trembling when he got close and the words escaping her mouth when she tried to speak something cool. When he took the first step she felt like in a dream, her thoughts a complete mess, every single thing that wasn't related with him would be ignored. AJ felt going back to being a teenager, skipping out of training to see each other, stealing kisses on their way to backstage, waiting till late hours to go to his room trying to not be noticed, making out on rental cars.

God, how much she loved CM Punk.

When they announced their relationship in public AJ wasn't surprised with the reaction of the other divas, especially those who had already dated Punk. She listened to a fair amount of "friendly advices" of how Punk wasn't a type of guy to date; he would _so _break her heart like he did to all the others. Even Kaitlyn tried to convince her to leave Punk and just date Daniel Bryan instead. _"You two would be such a lovely couple"_ she said more times than AJ could count. Most of times she would just shrug and say that Bryan was nice, but you can't choose who you love, things are never like this.

CM Punk wasn't exactly the perfect man; he couldn't remember her favorite dishes nor her allergies, sometimes he would argue with her because of comics and games, he ignored her a little when chatting with his Chicago friends on telephone and he couldn't remember her birthday not even to save his life. But he listened to her ranting about all the drama on the Divas' locker room; he played her favorite video-games, he tried to listen to her favorite bands while they were together and he hugged her tight when she was feeling particularly sad. He wasn't the perfect man, although he was the perfect boyfriend for her.

Until something occurred.

He stayed awake until late, not wanting to talk about the problem, not wanting to talk at all. He would wake up and go directly to the nearest gym, training until he couldn't breathe and then going to the arena, locking himself in his private room (now he was a star, and stars don't have to share their things) till came the time to go to the ring. AJ tried many times to talk with him, hopelessly thinking she was the problem, she must have done something wrong and now he was trying to break up. He would just look at her with soulless eyes and then kiss her, saying she wasn't the problem, she was everything but the problem. And although the look on his face scared AJ to death his kisses made up for it, making she forget everything else in the world.

* * *

"John is pretty messed up" she said. They were in his room, her head on his lap and his hands playing with her hair "I bet creative is pulling their hair trying to find a new opponent to you"

"I don't think so" Punk's eyes always fascinated her, the green she loved becoming darker at every word "Vince will make him go to that ring in one arm and I'll have to make him look like a fucking Hulk"

"According to the fans he is Superman, not Hulk" AJ joked, but he wasn't in mood for jokes.

"You know what? I hope his arm is so screwed he will miss Wrestlemania"

"Don't say that" she got up, looking into his eyes "I thought you were friends"

Punk pressed his face in his hands in an annoyed gesture. In that moment AJ could see he was not only mentally changed but also physically: It wasn't his beard or his hairstyle, his eyes were red most of the time due to late nights and he just looked older, consumed by himself.

"I'm just tired of not getting what I deserve" he said, his eyes focused on the carpet of the room.

Then AJ finally understood what happened.

* * *

AJ remembered when she first got into WWE; people said to her that she should never mistake her lives in and outside of a ring. At first AJ thought it was really easy, she thought it would be just like in superhero stories, being a normal girl at one moment and being mentally unstable at another. Piece of cake. But AJ forgot that even Superman had his troubles with living two lives, and so did most of the wrestlers. But AJ wasn't the one with problems; she knew where the line was, she knew how to keep sane while playing an erratic GM. She could just take off her suit and come back to be April, the girl everyone liked because she was friendly and too short to be a thread.

AJ wasn't the one mistaking things, Punk was.

She couldn't understand why such a skilled and experienced man would allow that to get him, but AJ was sure her boyfriend was now too deep into his own character to separate things. His sleepless nights, his suddenly temper changes, his behavior towards the others; all because Punk could sense the end coming. He was an intelligent man, with many years in the business to know how to play, so he _knew _what it would happen: His reign days were fading, the time to pass the torch was coming and CM Punk wasn't dealing very well with that.

Punk was becoming sick; she could see the distress in his eyes every time he held the belt. The way he held it dearly, like it was his most precious treasure, his whole life in a piece of fake gold. Paul Heyman kept feeding his illusions, whispering how good Punk was, how he _truly _deserved the spotlight, how he should be champion for months, no, years to come. AJ tried her best to keep him in reality, to make Punk remember who he really was, but how could she compete with a live legend?

And then the promo took place.

* * *

"I don't know what to do" her coffee was getting cold but she didn't drink one single drop of it. She was holding the cup, just to not see her trembling hands.

"Do you want my opinion?" Eve asked her. They were sitting on a cafeteria for almost two hours, hours in which AJ spent looking out of the window; her thoughts everywhere but there "Back off while you can"

"But you don't understand, I love him!" her hands became to shake, the tears already forming in her eyes "I love him so much, I would everything for he to become normal again"

Eve took her hands and looked into her eyes; pity was all AJ could see she was feeling "AJ, darling, listen to me: We are doomed because of the gold of those belts. Once you go back to competition you will understand. Championships change people more than anything else in our world and there's nothing you can do about it. Punk is already too far too gone in this road to come back"

* * *

Obviously it wasn't scripted because Punk never needed scripts, he had all his promos in his head and the others had to play along. By that time AJ already knew how to keep with him, her unstable act being now too easy to play. Obviously something would make it all go downhill. It was his eyes, she was sure of that. AJ loved those eyes but she couldn't focus on them because they gave her chills, although not in the good meaning of the word. He had such an intensity, such rage in his words, his gaze looking like he was about to kill her in front of the crowd.

By the end AJ couldn't pay attention to what he was saying, she just wanted to run away from him and his madness, and yet at the same time she wanted to forget they were in a story and just hug him tight and beg him to stop, to get back to his old ways, to the time she didn't fear him.

But that time no longer existed.

* * *

He didn't ask for apologize.

AJ waited for her boyfriend after that night and thought she would find him feeling sorry for all the terrible words he said early and how he had crossed the line of respect to a woman, but the only thing CM Punk did when he jumped on the car was groan in despair, struggling to put his seatbelt on. AJ leaned and helped him, seeing the champion just inhale and exhale air trying to calm down.

"Did you see it?" he asked in a husky voice.

AJ didn't want to speak with in that way, but answered nevertheless "Yes, I did."

"A guy with one arm is stronger than the champion." He didn't look at her, as he was still trying to not break something in the rental car "That was shit. Totally shit."

"Indeed it was."

"Are you mocking me?" He asked, his eyes now on her, completely full of anger. She didn't answer and Punk sighed "I'm sorry crazy chick; let's just go back to the hotel."

* * *

Sometimes she slept by herself. Someone would always share a room with her, but AJ slept with Punk, that was common knowledge between her friends. And sometimes, however, she would sleep in a single bed in a shared room because she just couldn't look at her boyfriend. She would say they had an argument for some silly thing and she'd rather stay with another girl and they would let her in, but deep down AJ knew nothing had happened, at least with her.

AJ preferred to sleep by herself on Mondays, a day that in the past meant everything now meant anger and screams and bad moody and fake belts being kicked and distress and AJ crying herself to sleep. Not that she didn't cry herself to sleep on her single bed, but at least she could do that alone, without having to control her sobs. Her Mondays were so miserable she just wished she could skip the beginning of the week and go to the house-shows and no storyline would be advanced and no one would be mad.

That particular night she knew things couldn't go well for the start of the show, and it didn't matter how she tried to make things good backstage Punk was still upset and angry and just asked her to go away. Eve was right, he was too far too gone to be reached.

* * *

He was kissing her neck, his beard tickling her a little. His hands were playing with the waistband of her pants and hers were drawing circles in his tattoos. AJ always felt light head when she was with him, it was like her senses couldn't work properly and she felt like daydreaming, a good sensation in her chest. _That's what love looks like, _she felt while he kissed her, _not like butterflies in the stomach, but like a warmth in the chest._

"You know, crazy chick" he whispered, his voice sending chills to her spine "I think I love you"

With Punk things would always be like this: Never a proper 'I love you', only half-jokes and uncertain words thrown together. But AJ knew she could cope with that, a phrase never meant anything without intentions behind it.

"I love you too" she whispered back between a kiss.

"I think I love you almost as much as I love my title"

She didn't kiss him back; instead she placed her hands in his face, looking into his eyes.

"_Almost?"_

"You know I'm selfish" was the answer.

CM Punk always put intentions in his phrases.

* * *

Shattered glass was everywhere in the floor of his bathroom, AJ seeing herself in every little piece, millions of little AJs looking back at her in an accusing way. He wasn't sad or desperate or something like that, he was pure anger and rage and AJ wanted to go back, but she stood there, looking at the small pieces of what before was a mirror. He didn't hurt himself, he smashed the mirror with a glass in which he was drinking Pepsi, and now the drink was on the floor as well, looking like blood gluing her foot on it.

His sight wasn't on her, but on his title, which was standing in his bed. He wasn't concerned about paying another mirror for the hotel or if he would get in trouble with the company for that, he was only concerned with being the best and showing it to everyone. AJ looked at her reflex on the glass, the others AJs still looking at her, the eyes asking her to do something. She sighed, thinking about all the ways it could have ended, but it had to end with a broken mirror and blurred eyes.

She walked away from his room, knowing there would be no going back until he picked up all the pieces of the shattered glass that was his sanity. _If _he could pick the pieces and walk back that road, they could try again. Until then that would be the end.


End file.
